


Prompt Fills

by displacedhobbit



Series: Prompt Fills and Drabbles [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Childbirth, DoS Spoilers, Durin Family, Durincest, Gen, Mentions of Character Death, Mild Gore, Mild Racism, adorable baby durins, check the warnings if you don't like it, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 17,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/displacedhobbit/pseuds/displacedhobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of all of my Prompt Fills from my tumblr (for your easier reading pleasure!).</p><p>Check chapter titles and notes for quick summaries and any warnings. :)</p><p>New 11/10:<br/>27. Lazy Saturday (Durincest [not related] modern!au)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kíli's first word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phoebe-artemis answered your question: prompts?
> 
> Greater than Gold verse or just general? And for an actual prompt, Kili’s first word being Fili’s name?

Fíli flopped down onto his bed, face first, and heaved a great, shuddering sigh. He could feel the tears prickling behind his eyes, and angrily scrubbed at his cheeks to keep them at bay.

It just wasn’t fair. No one had asked him if he’d wanted a little brother.

 

Honestly, he didn’t even know what the big deal was. Kíli whined and cried and needed attention constantly. Just last night, he’d kept the whole lot of them up until the wee hours of the morning, crying and crying and crying. He couldn’t do anything for himself; he always needed Mama or Da or Uncle Thorin to feed him and change him and carry him and he smelled something awful sometimes. He was used to being the center of their world, to being their miracle child, and Kíli had just crashed into his life and spoiled everything!

He rubs the back of his hand across his face, sniffling a bit before burying his face back into his pillow.

The door to his bedroom creaks open, and he’s distantly able to hear Kíli’s muffled crying (how he was still crying Fíli would never understand). His bed dips just slightly, before a hand starts rubbing at his back.

“Come now, Fíli,” Thorin murmurs gently. “What’s gotten you so upset?” When he doesn’t speak, Thorin grasps his shoulder gently and pulls him up to face him.

Embarrassed at how red his face is and at how obvious it must be that he was about to start crying, he tries to duck his head away, but his Uncle grasps his chin with a well-worn hand and makes him look up.

“Tell me,” he urges, the barest hint of a gentle smile tugging on his lips.

He frowns, his lower lip quivering just the slightest before blurting out, “No one cares about me no more!” Thorin tuts quietly at him, but his face stays kind…understanding, even, as his hand slides from his chin to the back of his neck and he pulls him just a little bit closer. “All anyone cares about is Kíli! No one even…no one even remembers me and Da has to work all of the time because of ‘im and Mama is too tired because he cries all the time and just…we were better off without ‘im!”

“Oh, my sweet Fíli,” Thorin whispers before pulling him into a warm embrace. “I know it’s hard, little lion,” he soothes. “You were once like him, you know? It will be easier when he is older.”

“Tell Mama to send ‘im back,” he mumbles against Thorin’s chest, none too pleased at the resulting rumble of laughter his comment produces. “I mean it!” he wails.

He feels Thorin press a kiss to the top of his head. “You won’t feel that way for long; I promise you. One day you won’t be able to imagine life without him.”

Fíli wants to protest, but Thorin sounds a bit sad, so he lets it rest for now. He is absolutely, one-hundred percent sure that his uncle is wrong, but he can wait for another day to rub it in his face.

“Come now,” he urges, nudging his away just a bit. “Mama says supper is ready. Go wash up.”

He frowns, but does as he’s asked and scrambles down from his bed to the washroom. He makes sure to scrub his hands and his face, and takes a deep breath before heading into the kitchen.

“There you are, sweeting,” Mama murmurs as soon as he comes in, stirring their evening meal with one hand and balancing Kíli on her hip with the other. “Would you help your uncle set the table for me, dear?” she asks, not even looking at him or listening for a response, as her attention immediately shifts back to Kíli, who is gurgling happily at her while chewing and drooling on one of her braids.

He glowers at the tiny dwarfling, wondering for the umpteenth time what is so special about him. Thorin gives him a small, amused smile, one that quickly fades away when Fíli turns his glare on him instead. The finish setting the table in relative silence, the only sounds in the room coming from his Mama cooing and coddling Kíli, who keeps making the most annoying little sounds.

He can’t wait for dinner to be over. He’d be much happier sulking in his room.

A few moments later, they are all settled down to eat, all of them except Da, whose in the mines for the week and won’t be back for days. Kíli is perched in the baby chair next to him, and he squeals excitedly (and overly loudly) into his ear when Mama sets a few small pieces of bread in front of him. For his part, Fíli does his best to pretend that Kíli isn’t there, and tries to focus on finishing his food as quickly as possible so he can be excused. He doesn’t miss the concerned look Mama throws at Uncle Thorin, who just shrugs before digging in to his own bowl of stew.

He finishes his meal as quickly as possible, annoyed that Kíli seems to prefer throwing his food at him instead of eating it, and even more annoyed at how amusing Thorin and Mama find him to be.

A few hours later he finds himself perched in an armchair, flipping the pages of a picture book Mister Balin had given him for his birthday last year, while Uncle smokes his pipe and Mama mends a pair of his trousers. Kíli is playing with some of his toys on the floor, for once blessedly quiet, and for a moment, Fíli thinks that maybe Uncle Thorin could be right, that Kíli might not bee so bad.

Until he happens to glance down and see his favorite toy, a warrior figure that his father had carved for him, firmly lodged in Kíli’s mouth and positively covered in drool.

“Mama!” he shouts as he jumps up, turning an accusing frown to her, lower lip quivering again because of stupid Kíli! With an angry huff, he reaches down to yank the toy from him, frowning in dismay at the damage he can see on it.

“Fíli!” his Mama and Thorin shout at almost the same moment, just as Kíli grabs for the toy again, put misses and takes hold of his pants leg instead.

“Look at what he did!’ he wails. “Da made this for me and he ruined it!”

Mama just shakes her head. “He doesn’t mean anything by it, dear,” she soothes, giving him a small smile. “He doesn’t know any better; not yet! We’ll have Da make you another one when he gets home, okay?”

“But he made me this one!” Fíli protests. Kíli is still pawing at his leg, trying to pull himself up to be able to grab the toy once more. “It’s mine!”

Kíli’s managed to pull himself up enough that he is able to grab his hand, and Fíli jumps and pulls his arm away in surprise. The tiny dwarfling plops back down on his bottom with a rather loud huff, and Mama is on her feet almost immediately, sewing falling forgotten to the floor.

For a heart-stopping second, Fíli thinks that his little brother is going to cry because of him, so he kneels down beside him, pressing the toy into small, chubby hands, murmuring apologies all the while. He couldn’t stand it if Kíli had a fit and kept them all up again because of him.

Much to his surprise, Kíli’s eyes are entirely devoid of tears. In fact, his face is split into a rather happy smile. He grasps the toy for just a moment, choosing instead to abandon it and reach for one of Fíli’s braids instead, cooing excitedly when he gets ahold of it.

“Feewee!” he cries out, other hand reaching up as well, but missing the braid and smacking him clean in the mouth.

“Did he just…?” Thorin asks from behind him, just as his Mama lets out a happy squeal of surprise.

“Feewee,” Kíli says again. “Feeee!” He’s still gurgling excitedly as he all but crawls into Fíli’s lap.

For his part, Fíli is entirely shocked into silence. Kíli’s said his first word, and it was his name. He’d been so worried that everyone had forgotten about him, but Kíli…

“Feewee,” he mumbles again, nuzzling his face into his brother’s chest. With a small, excited huff, he wraps his arms around the little thing, wide smile coming to his face as Kíli’s hand curls into the fabric of his tunic.

He chances a glance up to his mother, who has one hand clasped over her mouth and eyes obviously brimming with tears of happiness, and his uncle, who is regarding him with a warm, proud expression.

Kíli is tucked up against his chest, warm and safe and comfortable, and from how relaxed his little brother feels, Fíli knows he is falling asleep. He brings one hand up to card through the dwarfling’s hair, smile widening even further when Kíli relaxes completely against him, the ruined toy completely forgotten.

For the first time, he thinks his Uncle might be right; Kíli might not be so bad after all.


	2. Fíli and Kíli learning to play their fiddles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> piesaltandscars answered your question: prompts?
> 
> Fili and Kili learning how to play fiddles/practicing with Thorin/Bofur/Balin/somebody? [aaahh!!]

Fíli and Kíli stared at the parcels wrapped neatly on the table. Thorin gives them a small smile, gesturing toward them, almost looking timid and nervous. “It is tradition,” he explains, “to give gifts to your kin on Durin’s Day.”

Kíli flashes him a panicked look. “But we didn’t…”

Thorin immediately raises a hand to calm him. “You are my gifts,” he murmurs quietly, a rare tenderness in his voice. “And you must forgive an uncle who wants to spoil his nephews once in a while.”

Kíli gives him a small, excited smile. It has been a long time since they’d received any gifts, not that they had every really expected them, but times had been tough and coin had been obscenely tight for the last few years, and it was nice to be spoiled a bit, even if he thought it was entirely impractical, given the state of their finances.

His little brother bound forward first, hands excitedly pulling at the wrappings covering one of the parcels. He glances back up at Thorin, who gives him a reassuring nod, before pulling his own open. Beside him, Kíli lets out a small sound of delight as he gets his parcel open, which only makes him tear into his faster.

To say that he is shocked at the gleaming, ornately carved fiddle that sits inside is an understatement. With an almost panicked expression, he seeks out Thorin’s eyes, protest coming to his lips immediately. He knows how small their budget is and these…

“If you must be so worried,” Thorin murmurs, looking almost amused, “Bofur and Bifur made them for me in return for the cookware we made them for the Inn.”

Fíli barely tries to hide his sigh of relief, smiling widely once he looks to his little brother and sees the sheer joy on his face as he pulls the fiddle free.

“Will you teach us?” he asks excitedly, situating the fiddle on his shoulder and experimentally plucking some of the strings. Fíli finally pulls his own free, carefully running his fingers along the carving in the wood, smiling softly when he sees the lines of his sigil carved into the fingerboard.

“That, I am afraid, I cannot do,” Thorin murmurs. “You’ll have to pester Dwalin or Balin; they’re much more gifted with the stringed instruments that I am.”

“Harp is a stringed one,” Kíli murmurs idly as he slides the bow along the string, letting out a sound that is not entirely pleasant but not completely unholy as he does.

“A bit different, that,” he murmurs, still taking in the details on the instrument. “Thank you, Uncle,” he whispers.

Kíli sets his fiddle down before practically flinging himself into Thorin in a hug that all enthusiasm and warmth, one that is easily returned with an added bonus of a kiss to Kíli’s temple.

“Anything for my boys.”

———

He’s unsurprised that Kíli picks up the fiddle faster than he does. His little brother has always been skilled with his hands, with precision and detail work, where he has always relied on brute strength. Kíli’s nimble fingers fly easily over the strings, and he loves when they get to play with others. Bofur has a hint of a smile on his lips as he plays along on his clarinet, moving in time with the song. Balin laughs a bit as he plucks the strings on his viol, and even Nori seems to be in high spirits on the flute.

For this song, Fíli is content to just sit and listen. It is rare for all of them to be able to play together, and as much as he enjoys playing along, he loves to listen just as much. There’s something about the unbridled happiness that comes to Kíli’s face when he plays, about the tranquility he sees in Thorin when he’s listening as well, that lifts his spirits higher than he’s ever known.

The song comes to a close, to uproarious cheers from the other patrons at the Inn, and he takes a long drink of his ale before Kíli is waving him over enthusiastically, declaring that they play one of Fíli’s favorite songs.

As he settles in next to Kíli, his brother beaming with delight as the others cheer him on, he feels all of his troubles and worries lift away. This is happiness, and he vows to cherish every second of it.


	3. Fíli and Kíli beg Uncle Thorin for a story - precious version

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phoebe-artemis replied to your post: prompts?
> 
> The boys begging their Uncle Thorin to tell them a story.

He is absolutely, positively never babysitting again.

He’d thought he was being nice, giving his sister and her husband a rare night off to enjoy each other’s company. He’d thought it would have been simple enough to get her boys fed and bathed and tucked in to bed. He’d thought that they’d be exhausted from a long day of lessons and wouldn’t have too much energy to deal with.

He’d thought wrong.

The kitchen was an absolute disaster. Kíli had insisted that he always helped their Mama cook, which turned out to be a very clever ruse from the number of furtive glances and muffled giggles he and Fíli had exchanged throughout the fiasco. He was fairly sure there was stew all the way to the ceiling, and the volume of sugar the lads had managed to spill would take quite a bit of time to clean up, not to mention how much they’d eaten.

The bathroom was even worse. In retrospect, he should have known better than to take two rambunctious, sugared-up little dwarflings into the bath. Once they were wet and soapy he’d no chance at wrangling them in. He was certain that there was more water on the floor than remaining in the tub, and hoped that his sister had a good mop. Not to mention how saturated the lad’s clothes were…he shuddered at that thought, imagining the lecturing his sister was sure to give him when she saw all of the damp garments hanging from whatever surface he could find throughout their home.

He’d finally gotten then washed and changed and ready for bed, and with a delighted sigh he closed the door behind him and made for the sitting room. He’d earned a nice, long smoke before anything of his cleaning, of that he was certain.

He’d managed to get his pipe out and lit before his lap was suddenly full of little dwarflings, both of them tugging incessantly at his clothes. Aule rest his mother’s soul if he and Frerin had ever been such terrors…

“Uncle you have to tell us a story!” Fíli demands, tugging a bit too sharply on one of his braids.

“Da always tells us a story,” Kíli confirms. “An’ I can’t sleep without one!”

“I think you’ve been far too rambunctious for one night to deserve a story, lads,” he grumbles, standing up slowly to force the boys out of his lap and grabbing each of their hands to take them back to their bedroom.

“Nooo!!” Kíli protests from behind him. “Uncle!”

He hears Fíli murmur something, but the words aren’t loud enough for him to catch, before he’s led them back into their room and tucked them in once more.

He’s making to kiss their foreheads when he sees Kíli’s big brown eyes impossibly wide and shimmering with tears. “I can’t sleep without a story,” he whispers pitifully. He chances a glance over to Fíli, sees the older lad nod the affirmative, before sighing and settling himself into the armchair beside their bed.

From the quick glance between the two brothers and the flash of a smile that passes in naught but a second, he knows he’s been bamboozled, but once he’s got them to sleep, their peaceful, happy expressions make all of their bothersome antics worth it.

But if Dís comes home pregnant with her third, he thinks he’ll make for Erebor and take his chances with Smaug before babysitting again.


	4. Kíli defending his brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phoebe-artemis replied to your post: prompts?
> 
> Either Fili or Kili defending the other, verbally or physically?

"What in Durin’s name happened to you?!" Fíli hears his mother shout from the front room. He’s been locked away in Thorin’s study, trying his best to memorize the history scrolls Balin was sure to quiz him on tomorrow. His curiosity piqued, he meanders to the hallway interested to see what is going on (and if it is his brother or his uncle who has managed to trigger his mother’s ire).

"M’fine, Mama!" Kíli protests. Someone slams the door shut (though to be honest he isn’t sure which one of them would - both his brother and his mother are notorious for their tempers), and there’s the distinctive sound of his brother’s weapons hitting the floor.

 

"Pick that up," Dís shouts. "And don’t you lie to your mother! What’s happened to your face?"

Fíli hastens his steps, a little concerned now from the frantic tone in his mother’s voice.

"I said I’m fine!" Kíli shouts now, sounding anything but. Fíli finally makes his way to the front room, and his jaw drops at the mottled pinks and purples on his little brother’s face. Kíli’s lip is split and his left eye is almost swollen shut. "Just some idiots in the market, Mama. I’m fine."

"You are not," Fíli murmurs, a bit of shock in his voice. Kíli’s head snaps up to look at up, clearly surprised that he’s even home.

"Fee…" he whispers before ducking his head, clearly embarrassed at being caught with a bruised face.

"Oh, good," Dís grumbles before throwing her hands up in the air. "Please, Fíli, talk some sense into your thick-headed brother!"

Fíli’s grabbed his brother’s arm and is hauling him back into the washroom before she’s even finished speaking. “Who did this?” he snarls out, as soon as they’ve managed to escape to the privacy of the washroom. He’s furious that someone has attacked his brother, that someone has dared to offend his kin.

"No one," Kíli answers quickly, far too quickly for his liking. "I deserved it anyhow."

"You…what?!" he shouts back. "Honestly, Kee, those idiot kids have been using you as a punching bag for years! Tell me who it was. I’ll make them pay."

"It…just…stop, Fee," he murmurs, shying away from him just slightly. "I hit ‘im first and then I couldn’t hold my own," he murmurs. "I deserved it."

Fíli steps back a bit in shock. “Why would you…what?” Kíli was the sweetheart of the settlement, didn’t offend anyone (unless he’d been offended first) or start any fights. He couldn’t imagine what it would take to make Kíli go after someone.

It must have been been something serious.

Kíli’s gone quiet, and his gaze is fixated on a spot on the floor. With a sigh, Fíli grabs a cloth and dips it into the washbasin. He grasps his brother’s chin and forces him to look up at him, before gently dabbing at the cut on his lip. “Tell me,” he urges quietly when Kíli’s gaze flits back to the floor. “You can’t take what they say about you to heart, Kee,” he murmurs.

"He didn’t say anything about me," Kíli mumbled. "It’s what he said about you that made me punch him square in that stupid mouth of his."

Well.

That was interesting.

"Who?" he asks again, genuinely curious now. He tucks a stray lock of Kíli’s hair behind his ear as a way of coaxing him into speaking.

"I dunno," his little brother admits. "I’d never seen him before, but he came into the tavern talking all this nonsense about how…how you…" he trails off again, and Fíli gives him a gentle nudge of encouragement with his forehead. "He was saying that you couldn’t be of Durin’s line with hair so blond," he murmurs finally.

Fíli chuckles just a little. “So you hit him?”

Kíli gives him a small smile and a nod.

"Well it’s about time you clocked someone for me, after all the times I’ve done it for you," he teases lightly, pulling another smile out of his little brother.

He sets about cleaning his little brother up a bit more, genuinely feeling distressed that his brother had gotten himself hit on his behalf, but it gave him a warm, bubbly feeling in his gut that Kíli had tried to defend his honor, though he vowed to himself to find the dwarf responsible and make sure he introduced his own fists to him.

Kili is in much lighter spirits by the time Fíli deems him presentable enough to leave the washroom. He can already smell the beginnings of their evening meal (Mama had been baking all day after all), and he knows that it will lighten his mother’s heart to see that Kíli is well and truly unharmed.

"Oh, and Kíli?" he calls, just as his brother steps back into the hall. "Try not to get yourself too banged up next time, alright?"

He almost gets himself socked in the jaw for his trouble.


	5. Fíli and Kíli beg Uncle Thorin for a story - angsty version

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phoebe-artemis replied to your post: prompts?
> 
> The boys begging their Uncle Thorin to tell them a story.

“Uncle!”

“You’re home!”

He barely manages to get the door closed behind him before there are two little dwarflings attached to his legs. He frowns just slightly; it’s far too late for them to still be up. With a small sigh, he reaches down to lift little Kíli into his arms and ruffles Fíli’s hair fondly. Kíli’s arms wind easily around his neck, and his littlest nephew wastes no time in burying his face against his chest. Fíli has fully learned into his touch, sniffling just slightly as his arms tighten around his leg.

Dís appears around the corner not a moment later, fatigue evident on her face as she greets him with a small, sad smile. “They wanted to wait up for you,” she explains softly. “Couldn’t get them to sleep until they knew you were home safe.”

A pang of loss fills him. Not two weeks before, their father had left for the day and never returned. A mining accident had claimed his life, and the small family he’d left behind had shattered. Dís was doing much better, but the lads…

Fíli hadn’t spoken much since, truthfully. He was old enough to understand what death meant, that his father was never coming home, and his grief was palpable with his uncharacteristic silence. Kíli was too young to understand – he asked for his father nearly every night – but he’d always been very empathetic, was able to read and pick up on the emotions of those around him, and even though he did not fully understand, he still felt their sadness deeply.

“I’ll get them to bed,” he murmurs quietly, reaching down for Fíli’s hand before leading them down the hall to their bedrooms. Dís nods as they pass, gratefulness evident in her features, before she disappears into her own bedroom.

“Will you tell us a story?” Kíli asks as soon as they’re tucked in to bed. “Da tells us stories every night.”

He hesitates for just a moment. He is exhausted, and he can tell that the lads are as well, and he’d really rather not intrude on a tradition they’d saved from their father…

“Da’s not here anymore,” Fíli mutters miserably as he pulls Kíli tight against his chest. “He won’t be here ever again.”

The sadness in Fíli’s voice positively breaks his heart, and when Kíli just barely whispers, “Please, Uncle,” he’s well and truly lost. He settles himself at the end of their bed, launching in to a story about their mother’s more rebellious years. Fíli doesn’t laugh at the funny parts, and Kíli is asleep in less than a minute, with his thumb lodged securely in his mouth and head pillowed on his brother’s chest, but it is a step toward normal and he’s glad to take it with them.

He talks until Fíli’s eyes finally droop closed as well, before he quietly sneaks from their room. Even though he is exhausted, and he knows he has an impossibly long day coming, sleep eludes him entirely due to his heavy heart.


	6. Oin delivering baby Gimli

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phoebe-artemis said: Oin delivering Gimli. Dropping him on his head it optional but appreciated :)

“What is that?!” Gloin half-shrieks, taking an overlarge step back to rejoin his wife at the head of the bed. He shouldn’t have looked. He should not have looked.

Aerona releases yet another agonized scream as she clenches his hand tight enough to break it. “If you ever do this to me again, husband, I swear –“ She trails off into another throaty groan.

“Not to worry, brother dear,” Oin comments far too cheerfully, given his position between his sister-in-law’s legs, hands covered with something Gloin doesn’t want to identify right now. “The baby’s crowning. Just a few more good pushes for me, yea?”

Aerona utters out a string of curses in Khuzdul before steeling herself and pushing thrice more (nearly breaking Gloin’s hand in the process), and then there is a tiny, piercing cry and his life changes forever. Oin is cradling his child in his arms, a small, tender smile on his face. “Hello, nephew,” he whispers to the tiny little dwarfling.

“It’s a boy?” as exhausted Aerona asks, sunk back into the pillows as the midwife sets about cleaning her up and making sure everything is as it should be.

Oin tends to the babe, bathing him and making sure he’s well and healthy and wrapping him tightly in a warm blanket, before handing the small bundle to his brother. “Congratulations,” he half-whispers, small smile befitting a proud uncle on his face.

Gloin settles himself onto the bed next to his wife, dips his burden low so she can see the screaming face of her son for the first time. “Quite the lungs on him,” she comments lightly, reaching a shaking hand out to cup his head tenderly, thumb brushing along a healthy patch of ginger curls.

“Gets it from his mum,” Gloin comments easily. “Little Gimli.”

A wide smile crosses her face. “Gimli,” she agrees. “Welcome to the world, little one.”


	7. Dwalin and Balin after the Battle of Azanulbizar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phoebe-artemis said: Balin and Dwalin after the battle of Azanulbizar

Breathe.

In. And out. In. And out.

Breathe.

His breaths in are choked with ash and soot and the rank smell of death and decay. He can taste death on his tongue when he breathes.

In. And out. In. And out.

Every time he breathes out it is a barely stifled sob. He’s seen too much. Lost so much. Watched his king, who he’d served for so many years, be rid of his head. Watched the light fade from his father’s eyes. Watched his brother fall.

In. And out. In. And out.

He wants to scream. Wants to shout and cry and scream his anguish to anyone who will hear it. He’d seen his baby brother fall. He’s expecting the worst. There’s so much death around him that he thinks even his mighty brother could not have survived it.

In. And out. In. And out.

Finally, finally he spots him. Spots a familiar hand covered with familiar knuckle-dusters that he himself had crafted. Spots a familiar (stupid, he’d called it) Mohawk. Spots a familiar armor cuirass now dented and rent useless. Spots familiar dark eyes closed tight against the aftermath of the battle.

In. And out. In. And out.

He sinks to his knees beside his little brother, hands hovering uselessly in the air above his still form. This was his fault. He never should have been here. He was too young, and he’d been protecting him.

In. And out. In. And out.

He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve to live in a world where his brother was not.

In. And out. In. And out.

He can’t hold it in any longer; he dissolved into screams and sobs and pleas and lets his head come to rest on his brother’s still chest. And that’s when he feels it.

In. And out. In. And out.

He’s alive.

And suddenly he feels lightheaded and dizzy. Hope wedges it’s way back in as he feels for his brother’s pulse. He looks like he should be dead, like the Maker must have called him away long ago, but his baby brother is a fighter and he breathes still.

In. And out. In. And out.

There’s a cough, a rough, painful sounding noise that rips itself from his brother’s throat.

“Dwalin,” he breathes, scarcely believing his luck. He dares to hope that, perhaps, he hasn’t lost everything just yet.

Another harsh, grating sound comes from his brother, but he moves, his hand twitches almost imperceptibly and suddenly he’s reaching for it, grasping it like a lifeline. His brother’s eyes flutter under their lids, and he blinks a few times, but shuts his eyes again with a groan.

“It’s alright, brother,” he whispers, pressing their foreheads together tenderly. “It’s going to be alright.”

In. And out. In. And out.

It has to be.


	8. Fíli trying to teach Kíli how to use a sword

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phoebe-artemis answered: How about Fili trying to teach Kili how to use a sword (or Kili teaching Fili how to use the bow)?

Kili throws his sword to the ground with a frustrated huff. “Just stop, Fee,” he hisses through clinched teeth. “It’s no use.”

Fili takes a deep breath to steel himself through this conversation. Kili has been rather moody as of late, not that he really blamed him. Uncle had been putting a lot of pressure on him recently, to do better in his studies, to improve in his sword fighting, to make him proud. He knew that was the part Kili had taken to heart. The softly uttered “make me proud, lad” was sure to be his little brother’s downfall, since he had Thorin’s pride as being synonymous with being perfect.

“Pick it back up; you’re almost there,” he demands, barely managing to keep the frustration out of his own voice. “You’ve improved a lot,” he murmurs. “Uncle will be proud just to see that.

“He’ll be proud to see me beat you,” Kili grumbles, clearly not convinced, but he picks his sword back up regardless.

Fili laughs outright at that. “Like you could ever!” he teases, falling into a ready stance and gesturing for Kili to do the same. “One more go? See if you can beat me this time, yea?” he asks, hoping that his brother will say yes. There’s a hint of a smile tugging at Kili’s lips, and he knows he’s gotten him in higher spirits. His baby brother never had been one to resist a challenge.


	9. Little Kíli and Thorin fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> teddyrollaround answered: I love everything you write. But when I can make a prompt some little Kili/ Thorin family fluff.

Thorin returns to their tiny, wooden abode as silently as he can manage. It’s been another late night at the forge, another long day of toiling away his hours for less pay than he truly deserves for his craftsmanship, another day of struggling to make enough coin to keep his family’s mouths fed.

He feels that is all he and Dís are able to do anymore, since the death of her husband. They work, and work, and work, and still, at the end of the day, they send little dwarflings to bed with growling stomachs. It isn’t fair. They are princes, they are of Durin’s line. They are pure and precious and innocent of all that has befallen their family, and yet they still suffer.

He wonders if they will always suffer, if there is some curse upon his head that leads them all away from happiness for the rest of their days.

With a sigh, he makes to check the coals in the stove, to see if there is still enough to burn to keep their home warm for at least one more night. Midwinter is fast approaching, and the wooden walls do little to protect them from the chilled air. He is, however, quite surprised, to see little Kíli curled up in their sole armchair, the one the lad’s have dubbed Uncle’s armchair with a small sense of reverence. The dwarfling is fast asleep, hands curled around something he cannot see, shoulders shaking just barely with cold.

He crosses the small room and stoops to gather the lad up in his arms, carefully cradling him against his chest. Kíli stirs and starts to come to, greeting him with a sleepy smile. “You’re home!” he murmurs happily as he reaches up to grab one of Thorin’s braids. “I missed you.”

"And I you," he replies with a quick kiss to the boy’s forehead. "Though you would do better sleeping in your bed, under your furs," he comments, slightly concerned by how chilled the lad’s skin is.

"Wan’ed to…" he starts, but is interrupted by a rather loud yawn as they begin to ascend the stairs. "Wan’ed to wait for you," he murmurs. "Mama said it’s your birthday."

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He’d forgotten his own birthday, but neither his sweet sister, nor her dear son had. “It is,” he confirms quietly, not wanting to wake Fíli or Dís. “I had almost forgotten.”

"Mm," Kíli slurs sleepily as he snuggles in closer to his chest. "I made you this," he says as he presses an object against his chest. "Fee helped," he admits a scant second later.

Thorin reaches up to grab the gift, stunned into quietness by the thoughtfulness of his kin. He takes it in hand and holds it tightly as they reach the top of the stairs. He tenderly places Kíli’s half awake form into the small bed that the two brothers share, one that doesn’t even have its own room, as it is just tucked into a spare corner in the hall. Fíli immediately senses his brother’s return to their bed, and he curls around him, blearily looking up at Thorin.

"H’py birthday," he slurs out as his eyes slip closed and he drops back off to sleep, drawing a rare, small smile to Thorin’s lips.

He presses a kiss to both of their heads and tucks them in tight against the coming cold before pulling out their gift to examine in the soft moonlight filtering in through the window. It’s a talisman, carved out of stone, meant to be worn as a pendant around one’s neck. The runes speak of love, and honor, and family loyalty, and he traces over them with a finger that he tries to tell himself is only shaking from the cold.

"I’so you don’ forget about us," Kíli explains quietly, dark eyes watching him from under heavy lashes. "When you can’t be here."

"Thank you," he manages to murmur around the tightness in his throat as he slips the pendant around his neck. "I will treasure it always."

Kíli gives him a sleepy smile as his eyes droop closed. “Love you,” he whispers, like his admission is a special, secret thing, something reverent to be cherished.

"And I you, hofukel (joy of all joys)," he replies, leaning to press just one more kiss against the lad’s brow. He stays until both dwarflings are breathing deeply in sleep, before quietly slipping into his own room and falling into bed.

That night, and many late nights after when sleep evades him and he cannot get his mind to stray from darker thoughts, he clutches the talisman over his heart and recites the words over and over until he finds peace. It is on one of those nights that he realizes that Erebor’s greatest treasures were never lost at all.


	10. Idiots of Durin snooping through Beorn's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> piesaltandscars said: Ohmyword how about Fili and Kili looking around Beorn’s house/gardens until getting caught by Thorin who is about to lecture them for snooping when Dwalin appears having snooped himself to learn about their host and somehow it turns into giggling brothers

"Everything is just…so big!" Kíli gapes.

Fíli has to agree. Most of the company is still sleeping, and he and his little brother had quickly taken to snooping around their lodgings for the evening, trying to get a better idea of who their host truly was. Gandalf had explained that he was a skin changer after Beorn had abruptly departed, and that had only served to stir up a host of new questions for the pair.

He has to practically stand on his toes to push open the heavy wooden lid of a nearby chest, eagerly waving Kíli over when he sees that it isn’t locked.

"Hey, come here," he calls. "Let me up on your shoulders. I want to see what kinds of things a bear-man keeps in his glory box." Kíli is all too eager to accommodate him, and they quickly get to work at getting the lid of the chest open.

"Oh, Kee!" he exclaims once he’s able to see inside. "You’re never going to believe -"

"And what are the two of you doing?” their uncle hisses from behind them. Kíli jumps in surprise, whirling around suddenly and nearly tossing his brother from his shoulders as the lid slams shut.

"Nothing," he answers innocently enough, but he can already feel the flush that comes to his cheeks whenever he tries to lie.

"You are both idiots,” Thorin snaps as he crosses the room, and Fíli quickly clammers down from his shoulders as they both adopt guilty expressions and stare down at their boots. “The bear-man could easily kill us if we cross him, and he is already not fond of dwarves. You’re stupid actions could put the entire company at risk. Have you given that no thought?” He’s almost shouting now, but their attention is drawn away from him at the abrupt clattering of something distinctively metal crashing to the floor.

The three of them whip around to see Dwalin, looking just as guilty as the lads had a moment prior, a rather large, ornately carved box upturned in his hands, and a pile of silver cutlery at his feet. “Uhm,” he starts, looking from Thorin to the silver and back at his king. “Thought he might appreciate a polish?”

Thorin just gapes at him for a long moment as the boys start to snicker behind him. Finally, he huffs out an annoyed breath. “You are all children,” he snaps. “Clean it up. And try not to get us all killed with your stupidity while you’re at it.”


	11. Kíli's thoughts at being left behind in Lake Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fili-kili-at-your-service answered: What is going through Kili’s head as he walks away from Thorin and hears Fili defending him up until he pretty much passes out in Fili’s arms

Thorin’s words have left him cold, numb. He knows his uncle is right, knows that he will only slow them down, but it doesn’t change how much it hurts. It confirms the deepest, darkest fear that he’s held on to since he was a small dwarfling.

He really is nothing more than a burden.

Oin’s there suddenly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and leading him to a place to sit. The pain in his leg begins to seep back in through the numbness that he feels, and he thinks he must have tears in his eyes because his vision seems so watery and lost.

His leg burns like fire. Had it always hurt this badly? Maybe he’d been ignoring it for the sake of the quest, had been able to push it aside with the promise of reclaiming Erebor. But now that he was cast out, now that he was abandoned, it had come roaring to the forefront of his mind.

"Uncle," he hears Fíli’s voice cut through the daze and hurt and abandonment that he feels. For a second, his breath catches in his throat. What does Fíli think? Does he think him a burden too?

He gets so lost in his own thoughts that he forgets to focus on his brother’s words. It feels like his head is full of cotton, like every sound is warped and muffled. Had it been there before? He can’t remember.

"I will carry him if I must!”

Fíli sounds so worried. He wishes he could go and comfort him, but his strength is draining from him in waves. Oin is pressing some herbs against his lips, telling him to chew on them, but he wants to know what ails Fili so. Certainly he must be relieved that his burden of a little brother will no longer be his to bare.

"One day you will be king, and you will understand," Thorin replies, little emotion in his voice. "I cannot risk the fate of this quest for the sake of one dwarf. Not even my own kin."

That settles it, then. A cold, hard weight settles into his stomach, a mix of guilt and regret and sadness and loss. Thorin’s words are blank and impassive. He cares little for him. He doesn’t blame him, not after the mess he’d caused. Even if it had all worked out for the best in the end, he’d still failed.

He wonders if he could ever face Thorin’s disappointment again, once he’s allowed to come to Erebor. Perhaps he should just return home as soon as he is able, and spare himself further pain.

"You belong with the company," Thorin is saying, but not to him, not anymore.

"I belong with my brother," is Fíli’s firm reply.

Relief crashes over him in waves. Not abandoned. Not lost, not to be forgotten and left behind. Fíli will not leave him. His elation is short-lived, as the pain in his leg suddenly twists and leaves him breathless. His head starts to spin a bit, and he hates it because he wants to tell his brother goodbye, wants to thank him for his kindness, wants to promise that he’ll see him soon in Erebor.

But then there are warm, familiar hands on his cheeks, brushing his hair from his face, soothing words ringing in his ears. He thinks he hears his name.

Fíli is here, here, out of the boat and in front of him, eyes clouded with worry and fear and it’s so out of place and wrong because he’s supposed to be in the boat and why isn’t he in the boat?

What are you doing? You shouldn’t be here; you’re the heir. You have to reclaim Erebor because I cannot. Fíli, please.

He can’t tell if he speaks the words or not. There’s blackness creeping in on his vision and Fíli looks so, so worried. He wishes he could tell him that it’s okay, that he doesn’t need to fret, that he’ll see him in a few days and that he needs to be safe and not get himself burned alive.

It’s wrong, all of this is wrong. He needs to make Fíli understand.

But then his whole world lurches and everything goes black.


	12. Fíli's thoughts when Kíli is left behind in Laketown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> elufuir left the following comment on Prompt Fills:
> 
> I don't suppose you would expand on that last ficlet by writing it from Fili's POV?

No.

No. This is absolutely  _not_  happening. Thorin is not  _this_  cruel; he cannot  _possibly_  be this cruel!

Seeing Kíli's face fall is the last straw. His brother valiantly tries to hide it by turning away as quickly as he can, but he catches it nonetheless. He'd never been any good at hiding his feelings; not from  _him_.

"Uncle," he gapes, not believing it when Kíli really  _does_  walk away, shoulders hunched and limping more than he had been before. Óin pushes lightly past him, volunteering to stay with him as their healer. Vaguely, he hears Glóin make a small sound of protest, clearly disappointed to be separated from his brother as well.

When Thorin looks at him, his face is blank. No emotion. No sadness. No regret. He looks at him like he doesn't even  _care_  that he's leaving Kíli behind, like it doesn't tear out his soul that he's staying behind.

"We grew up on tales of the Mountain, tales  _you_  told us," he reminds, knowing full well that his desperation is creeping into his voice. "You cannot take that away from him!"

You cannot take that away from  _us_ , he means. They've been a pair their entire lives, two halves of a whole. Taking back Erebor, stepping into their ancestral home means  _nothing_  to him if Kíli isn't at his side. How can it mean anything to Thorin? Kíli, who he's raised as his son, who he's groomed to be a prince and commander of Erebor's armies, who he's loved and cherished every second of every day since he was  _born_...how can this still mean  _anything_  to him if he leaves his family behind to do it?

Thorin's eyes flicker briefly toward the mountain before focusing on him again, a small frown pulling at his lips. He doesn't understand, he doesn't  _care_. "Fíli," he starts, sounding exasperated.

"I will carry him if I must!" he interrupts. He  _would_. He's carried Kíli through many things, through injuries and broken bones and sleepy nights and... _everything_. They wouldn't have even gotten this far if Kíli hadn't risked himself to free them; they cannot just  _leave_  him because his selflessness got him injured.

"One day you will be king and you will understand," Thorin explains, voice softening just a bit, but still reminding him more of when he was being scolded as a child. "I cannot risk the fate of this quest for one dwarf - not even my own kin."

Fíli takes in a deep breath through his nose as he looks to Kíli, panic seizing him at how ashen he's become, at how badly his hands are shaking. Thorin looks to the mountain again, and suddenly, Fíli thinks he understands. It's the gold sickness. The treasure of Erebor is calling to him, tugging at his heart and Thorin doesn't even realize it. There can be no other explanation; there is no other reason he could  _possibly_  be so willing as to cast Kíli aside.

And that means that  _he_ could be cast aside too. He is not what Thorin is after, he is not the most important thing to his uncle, not anymore.

Before, it was their  _family_ , nothing more. The love between them all was they'd ever had, all they'd ever  _needed_ , but Thorin didn't need them anymore.

Not when he could have the gold.

His decision comes swiftly, and he moves to step off the boat. Something flickers in Thorin's eyes, something he cannot quite place, before his uncle reaches for his arm.

"Fíli," he says, sounding every bit like the king he is. "Do not be a fool. You belong with the company."

He  _almost_  laughs at the insanity of that statement as he pulls his arm free of the loose grip.

"I belong with my brother."

He doesn't look back, but the crowd is cheering again before he reaches Kíli's side, and he knows that they've left already. A darker part of him curses his uncle, hopes that he is stuck with nothing more than agony and defeat, that they are unable to reach the door in time, that all Thorin has done with his life has come to naught.

Those thoughts immediately vanish from his mind when he reaches his brother's side and sees how  _sick_  he looks, the deathly pallor of his skin. He is trembling something awful, and it is without hesitation that he reaches for his brother's face, smoothes the sweat-slicked strands of hair away from his face. Kíli's glassy eyes seem to look straight through him, and he keeps opening and closing his mouth as if to say something.

When had he gotten so sick? Had he been hiding it all this time? Why hadn't he  _told_  him he was feeling so poorly? Guilt gnaws at him at the thought that he'd neglected his brother for so long.

"It's alright, Kee," he murmurs. "It's alright. I'm here. I'm staying with you."

For a scant second, his brother's eyes focus on his face, but then they roll back in his head and he has to scramble to catch him before he falls.


	13. Thorin's thoughts on leaving Kíli behind in Lake Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> basically i just couldn't stop myself.

He’s wrestled with this decision for days.

Ever since his youngest nephew had been struck by an orc’s arrow, he’s wondered if he should send him home, or have him wait here, with these filthy men in Laketown. He doesn’t _want_ to. Kíli is, for all intents and purposes and lineage aside, his _son_. They both are. He’s been with them since they were babes, he’s promised them Erebor since before they even knew what it meant.

They still didn’t know what it meant.

It meant no more rumbling stomachs, no more scrimping and saving, no more threadbare clothes, no more disdain from elves and men. It meant the end of their suffering, the dawn of a new age. It meant peace and happiness in their lives for all the rest of their days. It meant _everything_ to him because it meant he could finally, _finally_ give everything to _them_. Everything they’d craved, everything they’d _deserved…everything_.

And they’ve come so far, they’ve conquered so much, and it seems such a shame to send him away when they are but in the shadow of the mountain.

But time is not on his side. If he is to give them all he desires to, he must be swift.

And when Kíli makes to step onto the boat, horrible limp evident in his step, his decision is made.

“Not you,” he murmurs as he sticks a hand out to stop him. Kíli’s face twists into something that is a terrible cross of hurt and shame and fear, and Thorin knows he must school his features and stay impassive. He cannot let these men see him break. He cannot let them know what his nephews mean to him. They could use it as a weapon against him, and he will not have it.

“We must travel at speed,” he elaborates when he feels many eyes fall to him. “You will slow us down.”

Kíli looks up at him, disbelief clouding his face. “What?” he murmurs, gaze flickering just quickly to where Fíli stands behind his uncle. “What are you talking about? I’m…I’m coming with you.”

He gives the barest shake of his head and resolutely ignores the tiny whimper of desperation that escapes Kíli’s throat. He has to do this. He has to keep them safe and win back the mountain. He has to do this. For _them_.

“I’m going to be there when that door is opened, when we first look upon the halls of our fathers,” he implores. “Thorin…”

He knows Kíli cannot possibly understand why he is doing this, knows he should have done this earlier, should have prepared him, should have _explained_. But he didn’t. With a sigh, he reaches to cup the back of Kíli’s head, pulling their foreheads as close as he dares.

He cannot let them know how much Kíli _means_ to him.

“Kíli,” he murmurs, fixing him with a gaze that he hopes will explain everything. “Stay here. _Rest_. Join us when you are healed.”

Kíli’s eyes search his again, desperate. He doesn’t understand. He shakes his head, breath coming out in a shaky huff, and a barely whispered _‘Uncle…’_ reaches his ears. For a moment he’s terrified that he’ll cave, that he won’t let Kíli _go_ , but Óin comes to his rescue, saying that he’ll stay with the lad. It eases his heart greatly to know that Kíli will not be alone here, that he will be in good hands between Óin and Bofur, if he ever chooses to come round again. He watches as his cousin leads his nephew away, heart feeling leaden in his chest.

When he turns back to the company, he’s met with Fíli’s anxious face, nearly cringes when he sees the betrayal shining in the depths of his cerulean eyes. “Uncle,” he murmurs the damning word, but thankfully none of the men seem to hear it. “We grew up on tales of the mountain. Tales _you_ told us. You cannot take that away from him!”

He is hurt, his tone accusing, and Thorin has to focus to keep his face neutral and impassive. “Fíli,” he starts, trying to find the right words to explain himself, but his nephew doesn’t give him the chance.

“I will _carry_ him if I must!” he declares, and in it Thorin hears the silent _‘Uncle, please!’_ , but he resolutely ignores it. They’ll be angry at him now, hurt because of him now, but he’ll make it up to them. He’ll win back the mountain. He’ll give them everything that he couldn’t for the entirety of their lives.

“One day you will be King and you will understand,” he says.

 _You will understand why I have to do this. It’s for you_ , he means.

“I cannot risk the fate of this quest for the sake of one dwarf – not even my own kin,” he explains, the last part nothing more than a hushed whisper.

 _I cannot risk losing him, losing the mountain, not when I’ve come this far to reclaim it for you…for all of us_ , he means.

Fíli’s face is filled with disbelief and fierce determination, and Thorin knows what he means to do before he even moves his feet. He reaches out quickly, grabs his arm.

“Fíli, don’t be a fool,” he half-begs. “You belong with the company.”

 _You belong with me. I am doing this for_ you _. I need you by my side_ , he means.

“I belong with my _brother_ ,” his heir all but snarls as he wrenches his arm free.

With a heavy sigh, Thorin watches him leave the boat. He cannot blame him. He _wants_ Fíli to stay with him, knows that he will feel better and stronger if he has at least one of them by his side, but he can’t stop him. He _won’t_ stop him.

He turns back to the company, desperately ignores with worried glances, particularly the one Dwalin aims at him, and gives the nod for them to depart. He doesn’t look back, _cannot_ look back, because if he does he will break. Time is not on their side, and if he is to do this, if he is to do this for _them_ , then he must be swift.

Dwalin slides close enough to him so that their shoulders are pressed closely together to give him strength. He knows he needs it. He has to see this through, and when he does everything will be all right in the end. He will be able to give them everything.

He can do this.

He’ll do it for them.


	14. Durincest: First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phoebe-artemis asked: "(durincest, y/y? maybe?) Fili/Kili first kiss?"
> 
> oops i did yours first even though you were the last one to ask. lucky i love you so much.
> 
> warning: durincest (obviously), so don’t read if that offends you and don’t yell at me this time sheesh don’t like don’t read.

Like most things Kíli did, it was purely impulsive.

 

He’d known about his feelings for Fíli for quite some time. He was still a small child when he woke up one morning, regarded his brother still snoring away in his own bed, and just  _knew_  that something was different. That Fíli was special to him, somehow. His brother had woken up some time later and noticed him staring, but he didn’t seem to see anything special, as he’d simply told Kíli to ‘piss off’ before chucking a pillow at his face.

It had been rather confusing. He knew from the men in town that loving ones own brother was considered an abomination, but Mister Balin had taught him that love between two dwarrow was special and rare. And he knew he loved Fíli, just… _knew_. He didn’t dare go to his mum for answers, love was a touchy subject with her after his Da had passed, and instead waited until the winter when Uncle Thorin returned from his travels.

He’d told Thorin that he wanted to know more about love, and, despite the sad, wistful look that crossed his uncle’s face, he readily agreed. He waited until his mum was busy washing up and Fíli had already gone to sleep before plopping down in the older dwarf’s lap before the fire.

“And who is it you fancy, then, Kíli? Some lass from town?” his uncle had asked, quietly and calmly, oblivious to the storm of worry in Kíli’s heart.

Kíli had fidgeted nervously with his hands. “It’s, um…it’s not a lass at all?” At Thorin’s raised eyebrow and softly uttered ‘Oh?’ he’d felt the need to continue. “It’s, um…it’s Fíli. I know the men say that it’s wrong but I don’t know because our love is supposed to be different than theirs and I just…” he huffs out in a rush.

“Hush, lad,” Thorin coos, rubbing and weathered hand across his brow. There’s a strange expression on his face, and Kíli desperately hopes he hasn’t disappointed him. “It is…uncommon for brothers; I will give you that. But not wrong. Not for us.”

Kíli had perked up at that. He’d been fully prepared for his uncle to push him away in disgust, so confused as he’d been by his feelings. “Really?”

Thorin had offered him a warm smile. “Really,” he affirmed. “You, little one,” he’d said, after popping him on the nose. “You were created by the Maker, like all of our kind. Crafted to the utmost perfection. When we are made, the Maker creates a soul that will compliment our own.”

“Soul mates,” Kíli had uttered. “Everyone has one?”

Thorin nodded the affirmative. “But sometimes, our mate is hard to find. Sometimes we are separated by time, born generations apart from our One. Sometimes we are separated by distance, like your Mum and Da were.”

“But they found each other,” Kíli whispered.

“They did,” Thorin murmured. “They were lucky. This is why love is so rare for our people. We all have our matching soul, but they are terribly hard to find. That is why so many of our kind never marry, why they pour their heart and soul into their craft instead.”

‘Like you,’ Kíli had wanted to say, but he’d wisely bitten his tongue.

“But sometimes, little one,” he’d continued. “Sometimes the Maker creates a love so pure that he keeps the two souls close as he can, so they can find each other when the time is right.”

“When the time is right?” Kíli had wondered aloud. “But if Fíli is really my soul mate, then why can’t I just tell him now?”

Thorin had given him a gentle smile. “You must wait. Your soul has awakened, but not his. You must wait until he realizes as well.”

And waited he had. It was agonizing, watching the years pass, knowing that Fíli was supposed to be his and his alone, seeing him chase after girls he fancied in the marketplace, only to be met with a knowing, comforting smile from Thorin. But always Fíli admitted that he hadn’t felt the pulling in his heart to signify that any of those lasses were his One. Kíli watched him grow frustrated at this time and time again.

He had waited and watched and waited.

Then, one day, as they were sitting shoulder to shoulder in the forest, Fíli had asked, “How come you never seem to fancy any of the lasses?”

It was an innocent question, really. And Kíli probably should have come up with a better answer than, “I’ve already found my One. Found them years ago,” if he hadn’t wanted to be interrogated.

“What?” Fíli asked, clearly flummoxed. “You have? Who is it?” There was a strange look on his face, one that Kíli had never seen before. He wondered if it was disappointment. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He blanked. He had no idea as to how to answer his brother and nowhere to run to distract him from the conversation. So he merely shrugged.

“Kí-LI,” his brother had whined, before moving swiftly and straddling him, crawling up into his personal space and he’d done countless times before. “Tell me,” he demanded, forcing his brother to look him in the eye, to make sure he wasn’t lying.

Inside, Kíli was panicking. Fíli was close –  _too_  close – and Uncle had told him to wait. But he’d waited an awfully long time and it seemed like Fíli really did want to know…

Before he realized what he was doing, before he was able to convince himself that this  _might_  not be the  _best_  idea, he had leaned forward the small distance that separated them and pressed his lips to his brother’s in the barest of kisses.

When he’d pulled back, Fíli had been staring at him with wide eyes, and he  _saw_  it, saw the realization cross his brother’s features.

“Me?” he breathed out, disbelieving. Kíli had only been able to nod; his heart was pounding so loudly in his ears. Fíli’s hands came up to cup his cheeks, thumbs tracing over cheekbones reverently. “Me,” he agreed, warm smile coming across his features.

Then Fíli had pulled him close and kissed him proper.


	15. Thorin Loses his Patience with Kíli

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: "How about Thorin losing his patience and screaming at Kili for something that's not really his fault but Thorin doesn't know/care and Kili is really upset and big brother Fili to the rescue?"
> 
> this is dangerously close to something that’s going to happen in chapter 18 and i almost cheated and just put that scene in here as a teaser. but here, have some other bb!kíli angst with nadad fíli to the rescueeee.

“What is all this?” Thorin had gaped as soon as he’d entered their small home. Fíli had been hot on his heels, peering around the older dwarf’s shoulder to see what was the matter.

 

In a word, the kitchen was a catastrophe. There was flour  _everywhere_ , a few very sad looking loafs of charred bread sitting upon the counter, and it looked like the pot of stew had completely boiled over, spilling broth all over the counters and floor. In the middle of it all stood a very wide-eyed Kíli, covered in stew and flour and something that looked remotely like jam.

“I made supper?” Kíli murmured unsurely. “Mama said she wasn’t feeling well and went to see Mister Oin so I thought –“

“You think  _this_  helps your mother?” Thorin snapped, gesturing wildly at the mess in the kitchen. “This mess that she’ll only have to clean herself? This  _waste_  of what few resources we have?”

“M’sorry, Uncle. I’m going to clean it all, honest –“

“ _Enough_!” Thorin shouted, loud enough to rattle the thin wooden walls of their home and cause Kíli to shrink back and lock his gaze on the floor. “ _I_  am going back into town to spend  _more money_  and get us something  _tolerable_  to eat,” he growled as he turned on his heel, pushing past Fíli with ease. “Make yourself  _useful_  and be sure this  _filth_  is cleaned before I get back!” he shouted, the door slamming behind him, rattling the walls of their home once more and making both lad’s jump.

“Oh, Kee,” Fíli murmured as he watched his little brother wrap his arms around himself as he released a shuddering sob. “Nadadith, it’s alright.”

Kíli sunk to his knees and curled his arms even tighter around himself as the tears began to come faster. Fíli was there in a heartbeat, gathering his precious little brother in his arms and holding him close.

“I just wan’ed to…to help,” he coughed out between sobs. “I’m too…too little to help at the forge and Mama…”

“Shhh, Kee,” he murmured, stroking a hand through his tangled and messy hair. “Uncle’s not mad at you; I swear,” he promised, tutting quietly when Kíli sobs harder. “I promise, Kee. It was a bad day at the forge. He’s stressed…I know he didn’t mean to shout at you.”

“Jus’ wan’ed to be useful,” Kíli whispered from where he’d curled himself into his brother’s chest.

“I know, nadadith,” he soothed. “I know; it was so kind of you. You’re always so kind. You know that? It’s my favorite thing about you.”

Kíli just laughed a bitter little laugh and curled closer to him.

“I mean it. Mama will be so happy to see that you wanted to help. Uncle will calm down and realize it too,” he promised. “Just hush, nadadith. We’ll have this cleaned up in no time, all right? I’ll help you.”

It takes his little brother a few more minutes to cry himself out, but he finally nods and accepted his help. They  _do_  make quick work of the kitchen, and have it completely spotless before their uncle returns. And, true to his brother’s word, Thorin sets their new meal on the table and bends down to gather Kíli up in his arms and holds him close, murmuring an apology against his temple.


	16. Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin Sneak Out of Erebor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> piesaltandscars said: a young thorin making his first excursion outside of erebor with balin and dwalin (just having a good time and maybe getting into trouble)

“You Da is going to  _kill_  us,” Balin panics from behind him.

“Only if Granda doesn’t get to us first,” Thorin agrees as he quickly works to bind Dwalin’s ankle.

 

“Gonna kill  _you_ , you mean,” Dwalin hisses in pain, casting a pointed glare at his brother. “You shouldda brought us in!”

It had started off as a fun enough afternoon; he and Thorin had gotten the bright idea to sneak out of the mountain, intent on exploring some of the plains below. They’d made it past the guards swiftly enough, their youth and small size making it easy for them to creep away unseen. But Balin had spotted them and  _insisted_  on following them just in case they got themselves into trouble. He  _was_  bigger and stronger after all.

And boy, had they found trouble.

They’d gotten just over the ridge; euphoric in their pleasure at sneaking away, when Thorin had spotted a warg. Instead of doing the intelligent thing and running straight back to the mountain (they’d have gotten  _caught_ , can’t you see?), they’d decided they would be better off subduing the warg themselves.

And subdue him they had. Young as they may be, Dwalin and Thorin were both quite gifted with their axes, and they had easily taken the beast down. They’d even removed a fang, one for each of them, which they planned on polishing and fashioning into pendants when they’d gotten the chance. Balin had steadfastly refused to take one, grimace on his face at their gruesome, inexperienced kill.

So elated they had been, that Dwalin and Thorin had taken off running through the plains, toward Dale, laughing with merriment all the while. Balin had been content to just sit and watch, relishing in the warm spring breeze that ruffled the grasses around him.

Then Dwalin had to go and trip in a rabbit hole and sprain his ankle. He was going to get it  _for sure_. His Da was going to ream him out for letting his little brother get into trouble. His  _king_  was going to skin him alive for letting his heir out in the wilderness.

“We might be able to sneak back in,” He murmurs, once Thorin has hoisted Dwalin back up to his feet for a few experimental steps. “We can say you two were being stupid in your halls and that’s how you twisted your ankle.”

“Why do I have to be the stupid one?” Dwalin whined, leaning heavily on Thorin but still able to walk fairly easily.

“You’re  _supposed_  to be young and stupid!” Balin hisses back.

They make their way back into the mountain, and, although time consuming, they  _do_  manage to sneak back in, unseen, delivering Dwalin back to his Mum with a well thought out story of how they’d been goofing around in the sparring ring and Dwalin had wound up hurting himself.

When Thorin turned to leave, Balin grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back. “Say nothing of the warg,” he hissed. “Not even to Frerin.”

“But…” Thorin started, but was cut off by a sharp glare from his friend. “ _Fine_ ,” he huffed out.

In the end, he told a wide-eyed Frerin anyway.


	17. How Kíli Gets Separated during the Spider Incident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fili-kili-at-your-service said: Oh oh I’ve got one! How does Kili get separated from the company in Mirkwood while fighting spiders?
> 
> ohhh, you always give the best prompts. which also reminds me that i’m supposed to be editing something for you whoooooooops. also this is really short; sorry bb.

He needs to get to higher ground. He’s not making any dent in the number of those wretched, nasty spiders on his own with his sword. If he is going to be of any use to Fíli and Thorin, he needs his bow.

Frantically, he looks around, trying to find a good vantage point while beating away the nearest spiders. He finally spies one, and with agility brought on by his youthful, lithe form, he hoists himself up some branches of a nearby tree, quickly pulling out his bow.

He’s able to take down four spiders in quick succession before they notice his new position. With a hiss, a particularly fearsome looking spider lunges at the base of the tree, causing the limbs he’s perched on to shake violently. He is able to maintain his footing and nocks another arrow, intent on taking the beast down.

Suddenly, he’s lunged at from behind, a smaller, younger spider knocking him from the tree and sending him down to the ground. The air rushes from his lungs in a huff, but he has the good sense to drop his bow and grab for his sword. He is able to fell the smaller one, but the large one advances on him again, grabbing his leg with his pincers, but not biting, not yet. It’s trying to pull him in, to wrap him back up in that wretched silk, and he flails aggressively, trying to land a hit on the beast and free himself.

Distantly, he hears Fíli shouting his name.

Then an arrow lodges itself in the beasts face and his leg falls free.


	18. Kíli gets Picked On by Older Boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: "maaaybeeee "baby kili gets lost in the woods or something and he's sad but Big Bro Fee and Awesome Uncle Thorin save him" orrrrr "slightly older Kili is at the training grounds with his bow and mean older boys hurt him and Fili sees or finds him later and after comforting/fixing up baby bro he goes and kicks their asses" orrr you could write something happy and not this angsty shit I just suggested (AMY)"
> 
> psssh, i’m all about the angst, obviously. :) went with the second one because one of the other prompts was pretty similar to the first. thank you bb! i hope you like it!
> 
> warning for some language, basically some racism, and mild violence.

“What kind of dwarf shoots a bow, anyhow?” he hears someone sneer behind him.

Glancing over his shoulder with a disinterested expression, he recognizes a few of the boys from town. Brothers, he thinks, if he remembers correctly, and the sons of the man who owns the bakery. He does his best to ignore their insult, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to center himself again as he takes aim at the target once more.

“I know you heard me, little scum,” one of them shouts, laying a hand on his shoulder to spin him around, causing him to release the arrow early and sending it soaring into the rafters of the shooting range.

One of the other boys laughs uproariously at him. “Lookit, he’s even shit at it!”

“Dwarves are good for one thing,” a third says disdainfully. “Making weapons for us. Otherwise they should all be put to death.” He spits at Kíli’s feet, just as the first boy wrenches his bow from his hands.

“Hey!” he calls out in surprise, dismayed at how the boys seem to tower over him, circling in on him like wolves on their prey. “I haven’t given you any offence!” he protests.

“Your whole existence is an offence, little midget,” the third snaps, malice in his eyes as he grabs Kíli roughly by his hair and forces him to his knees, brandishing a dagger from his belt and holding it along his throat. “Would kill the lot of you if I could,” he admits, running the cool metal along his throat, nicking it slightly and drawing blood.

Panic seizes him. They couldn’t possibly…they wouldn’t kill him, would they? He hadn’t done anything!

“This is a nice bow,” the first observes, running his fingers along the ornately carved wood. He had spent ages working on it, decorating and shaping it after Fíli had purchased the fine piece of wood for him. With a swift motion, the boy grabs it with both hands and brings it down across his thigh, snapping it in two. “Too nice for dwarf scum,” he says as he tosses it aside.

Tears come to his eyes at the loss of his bow; he hadn’t done anything! Why were they attacking him?

With a rough shove, the boy holding his hair throws him to the ground, driving his knee into his prone back as soon as he hits the dirt and sending his breath rushing out of his lungs with a whoosh. “I don’t know lads. What should we do with him?” he asks.

“Could mess up that pretty face of ‘is,” the second suggests. “Be doin’ ‘im a favor; he’s too pretty for a dwarf anyhow.”

He struggles in vain to get up at the threat, but the knee lodged firmly in the middle of his back prevents him from moving. “Oh, that sounds like an idea,” the boy pinning him says, moving swiftly to loop his hands underneath his shoulders and yank him up, leaving him prone and open to attack by the other boys. “Have at it, then. Just don’t hit me, you idiots.”

The first punch hits him square in the temple and makes him see stars. The second lands directly in his stomach and causes him to cry out in pain. The third hits him in his jaw and everything goes black.

———

Fíli all but sprints back to the shooting range in excitement, his uncle trailing behind him.

He’d spent the day working with Thorin in the forge, learning how to craft things from boring hunks of metal, and he’d made his first craft – a dagger, with a squared off blade that he favored. He wanted to make the handle more ornate than it was, but Kíli was much more talented with woodwork than he was. He planned to ask him to carve some designs into it, like he had with his own bow.

The second he steps into the shooting range, he sees red.

His brother, his precious baby brother, is being held down and beaten by a group of boys.

“Get off of him!” he snarls, whipping the dagger from its holster as he sprints for them. The boy that’s holding Kíli has the good sense to drop him and run, grabbing one of the others by the hand and sprinting from the hall. The third had attempted the land one more fist against his brother, who’s slumped lifelessly on the ground, but Fíli manages to grab his arm and flip him over, pinning him underneath him.

“How dare you,” he seethes, bringing his fist up and hitting him square in the jaw. The boy under him howls in pain and bucks at him to get off, so he brings his dagger to his throat. “How DARE you!” he shouts again, landing punch after punch, eventually abandoning his dagger as his rage takes him over.

Someone eventually grabs him from behind, pulling him off of the boy. He struggles in vain, finally recognizing Thorin’s worried voice in his ear, cutting through the haze of rage that’s filled his mind. “Stop! Fíli, stop,” he’s urging, but he doesn’t want to stop. He wants that boy to suffer. “Your brother needs you. Stop.”

Those four words deflate him, and he sags against Thorin’s chest with an exhausted huff.

Your brother needs you.

He wipes the tears from his face with a bloodied hand, pulls himself free from his Uncle’s grip and gathers Kíli’s limp form up into his arms.


	19. Dori looking after Fíli and Kíli

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hepzibahandthedragon answered: Umm…I would love to see Dori looking after Fili and Kili for Thorin in GTG Verse. Nori is a terrible influence. Maybe after Kili saves Ori.
> 
> ———
> 
> i was actually planning to do something like this for the outtakes, but not with dori. thanks bb! i hope you like it. :)

Kíli murmurs quietly in his sleep, uttering out a soft whine of pain and subconsciously curling closer to his brother. Fíli adjusts his hold on him, bringing his free hand up to stroke idly though his hair as he murmurs comforting words to him.

 

The night before had been rough – Kíli had been in severe pain, and both he and Thorin had spent countless hours trying to soothe him and help him sleep. Mister Oin’s teas had helped, but the healer had sadly informed them that his little brother was likely to be in pain for days, if not weeks. Otherwise, he was recovering well from his injuries and following surgery, but Fíli still longed for his rambunctious baby brother to return to him. It was absolute torture to see him in such a state.

His increasingly familiar rage begins to bubble up inside of him once more. He wants to  _kill_  those boys for touching his brother. He would have done so already, if Thorin hadn’t have talked him out of it. Their trial would be in a few days time, and he was sincerely hoping they would be exiled or worse.

“Shh, Kíli,” he soothes once more, pressing a kiss to his forehead and brushing his sweaty fringe back. His brother whines pitifully as he curls his good hand into his tunic, just above his heart. He burrows his face in closer to Fíli’s chest, uttering out a soft apology.

There’s a quiet knock at the door that makes both of them jump. Mister Oin pretty much came and went as he pleased, seeing as it is  _his_  house of healing and all, and Uncle rarely knocked. Mister Dwalin had just left a few hours before, and Mister Bofur had been in to see them that morning. “Come in?” he calls, a bit delayed as he tries to work out who could possibly be visiting them.

The door creaks open to reveal Dori’s smiling face. “Hello, lads!” he greets cheerfully, though his face falls when he sees how ill Kíli looks. He’s carrying a big bowl of stew that smells downright amazing, and has a blanket and a few books tucked up under his arm. “I thought you might like some special treats,” he explains, setting the container of stew down on the nightstand.

“Thank you,” Fíli says quietly, humbled by the other dwarf’s actions. “You didn’t have to…”

“No,” Dori agrees, placing a gently hand on Kíli’s shoulder and squeezing lightly, causing the younger dwarfling to look up at him. “No, I didn’t  _have_  to. But you saved my little brother. You protected him when I couldn’t, and for that, I owe you my gratitude.”

“It’s s’okay,” Kíli slurs sleepily, mustering up a tired smile. “He’d a’done the same for me.” He winces slightly when he tries to adjust himself to better regard the other dwarf.

“Stop, Kee,” Fíli murmurs quietly. “Mister Oin told you not to move.”

“Yes, laddie, just hold still. I’ll watch over the both of you for a while. Are you hungry?” Dori asks, moving to grab the stew, but stopping his actions when the lads shake their head no. “Well, it’ll keep for a while longer at least. You just let me know when you want it.”

He gives them both another soft smile before unfurling the blanket and settling it over top of them. Kíli smiles when he see it, brings the fingers of his good hand out from under it to stroke the smooth yarn of the blanket. “Di’ Ori make this?” he asks, eyes already drooping with sleep.

“Aye, he did. Insisted I bring it to you. Said it would help you heal faster,” he explains, bringing smiles to both of their faces. “Now sleep, lads. I’ll be here when you wake.”


	20. Dwalin and Little Kíli Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> liddie0 asked: "Can I have some Dwalin and little Kili bonding, please? Maybe Dwalin is watching him for a bit while Thorin and Fili are out and he ends up teaching Kili something.. :)"
> 
> \------
> 
> ohhhh, this is lovelyyyy. we all know i am a big sucker for uncle dwalin. :) hope you like it, bb!

“Oh, thank your Dwalin. You’re a life saver,” Dís says as she all but shoves the little dwarfling into his arms. “I’ve so much to do at the market today; he’d be such a hassle.”

 

“Unc’a Dwalin!” Kíli cries out happily, throwing his arms around his neck with a delighted squeal.

“You be good for Dwalin, now,” Dís tells him, swooping in to press a kiss against his forehead. She loops a rucksack over Dwalin’s shoulder. “He’s already eaten, but there’s some berries in there for him if he gets fussy. And some toys. And his blanket, you know he can’t sleep without it; he naps around two. And – “

“It’s fine, Dís. I’ve got him,” he assures her, adjusting the dwarfling in his arms. Kíli fists his hands into his beard, tugging at the coarse strands of hair with a happy little noise.

She gives him a warm smile. “Oh, all right,” she says, pressing one more kiss to Kíli’s messy curls. “Be good, sweeting.”

“Bye, mama!” Kíli coos, waving a clumsy hand at her when she departs.

They head back into the small home Dwalin shares with his brother, and he sets the little lad down on the floor, before ruffling through the rucksack and pulling out a couple of the toys and placing them down with him. Kíli immediately goes for one of them – a crank toy eagle that he knew Bifur specialized in – and he decides to settle into his armchair to have a smoke with his pipe, settling back with a sigh and letting his eyes fall closed.

A few moments later, there are little hands pawing at his legs, using great effort to haul himself up to his feet. “Unc’a Dwalin?” he calls timidly. He’s holding a small picture book in his hand, one that must have been in the rucksack. “Will you help me read this?”

With a fond smile, he leans forward and hoists the dwarfling up into his lap. Kíli settles in and tucks himself tightly against his side. He reaches up to card a hand through the boy’s hair and props the book open with the other. The book is mostly pictures of different animals, with an interesting fact about each animal underneath. “Did my dear brother give you this?” he asks.

Kíli shakes his head. “No. Unc’a Thowin did,” he explains, words slurred around the thumb that’s lodged fully in his mouth. “For my bir’day.”

“Oh, now none of that,” he chides softly, reaching down to pull his hand down. Kíli giggles shyly and burrows his face against his chest.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, though he doesn’t sound the least bit apologetic. He turns his attention to the book, fingers tracing over the words as he starts to sound them out. It’s slow going, but he manages to sound out most of the words on his own. Dwalin has to correct him more than once, mostly just to fix his pronunciation of some of the harder words.

“The…uhm,” he stalls, finger paused over the word ‘fox,’ brow furrowed in confusion. “Whassat?”

A soft smile tugs at Dwalin’s lips. “Fox. You’ve seen them before in the words, haven’t you?”

“Oh. Oh!” the dwarfling murmurs in realization. “Yea! Unc’a Thowin showed me one! But that word looks silly,” he says with a soft whine. Dwalin realizes that the letter ‘x’ was probably new and exciting for the lad, and the thought draws another chuckle from him as he ruffles the lad’s hair fondly.

“I see you haven’t made it all the way through the alphabet yet, laddie,” he teases gently.

Kíli flushes read. “Mama’s been teaching me!” he protests. “But she’s busy.”

“I meant no harm in it, little prince,” he soothes, tightening the arm around the boy’s back in a gentle hug, and they continue reading through the book.

“M’sweepy,” the boy murmurs after a while, tucking himself closer to Dwalin’s side.

The warrior closes the book and sets it on a nearby table. “Do you want your blanket?” he asks.

Kíli shakes his head no, and covers his mouth with the back of his hand when a wide yawn strikes him.

With another easy, fond smile, Dwalin adjusts the lad to a more comfortable position for napping, keeping him safe and secure in his arms. Kíli drops off to sleep almost instantly, thumb of one hand in his mouth and the other hand loosely fisted in Dwalin’s tunic.

He’s grown to love those boys, Kíli and Fíli both. They remind him of his own adventurous exploits with Thorin, back in simpler times; they remind him of happiness and innocence and  _home_. He likes to think that if he’d ever had a son, he would be something like the pair, a mix of wide-eyed enthusiasm and quiet strength.

When Dís comes to retrieve her youngest several hours later, she can’t help feeling of love and joy that captures her heart at the sight of the pair, curled up in the armchair, fast asleep with matching smiles on both their lips.


	21. Fíli, Kíli, Oin, and Bofur after Smaug Attacks Laketown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gratuitous-violence-reedus answered: Fili, Kili, Mr. Bofur and Oin after Smaug attacks and they have distanced themselves from Laketown a bit, they take a moment to compose them
> 
> ———
> 
> you ALWAYS give me the best prompts. i love this. thank you bb! i hope i did it justice.

When they finally stop to rest, his head is still spinning. His clothes are covered in ash and he can still taste the smoke of dragonfire in his lungs.

 

He’d supported the bulk of Kíli’s weight as they’d fled; his leg was nowhere near healed enough to carry himself out quickly enough to escape the flames. His brother was breathing heavily, tear tracks streaking through the soot and dirt on his ashen face. “Fíli,” he murmurs out numbly. “Fee…” Oin moves over to check on him, fussing over the ruined binding on his leg.

Fíli knows what his brother is thinking, knows because he’s been thinking it to himself from the moment the first flames had licked through Bard’s home. There’d barely been enough time…he was glad he had urged Bard’s children to leave prior to the attack, glad he and Bofur had all but shoved his little brother out of the window and into the water below, glad that Oin had followed behind them swiftly enough. It was a small miracle that they’d all escaped unscathed.

But if the dragon had gotten out, what had become of Thorin, of the company?

His heart clenched painfully at the thought. They’d come all this way…

He turns his gaze back to Laketown, which still burns. He can’t imagine the devastation, can’t  _imagine_ how much damage that blasted worm had been able to do before Bard was able to take it down.

Kíli’s hands are pawing at him, pulling him closer, and it’s not until his gathered into trembling arms that he realizes he’s crying. He can feel the wetness of Kíli’s own tears on his cheek, and he reaches out to pull him as close as he can.

“Come on now lads,” Bofur says from behind him, his own arms wrapping around them both. “No sense in fretting over it until we get there, alright?” he murmurs, but his voice is tight with grief.

He eventually pulls his head up, spying Oin not too far ahead, his head bowed and held in his hands as his shoulder shake.

With a tired grunt, he disentangles himself from Bofur and his brother, rising on tired legs once again. “Come on,” he urges, reaching for Kíli’s hand to pull him back to his feet. “Come on; we have to get up there. We have to see.”


	22. Fíli and Kíli Bake a Cake for Uncle Thorin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> daisykatherine answered: Boys wanting to make Thorin breakfast/birthday cake/soup when he is sick?
> 
> ———
> 
> love thiiiiiiis. thanks my lovely i hope you like this!

Dís watches from the doorway of the kitchen with an amused smile.

 

She’d thrice offered her help, but Fíli was  _very_  independent, and had insisted that he and Kíli could handle baking a cake all by themselves, thank you very much. (He’d then very bashfully asked for her recipe and for the supplies from the market, but she didn’t see the point in reminding him of that.) They’d made a phenomenal mess of her kitchen. There was more flour on Kíli than in the cake, and they’d lost no less than three eggs to cracking mishaps.

Still, it warmed her heart to see the two boys sitting in front of the oven, staring at the cake batter within and waiting for it to be done, Fíli’s arm wrapped fondly around his little brother’s shoulders.

“You know, my sweetings,” she calls, startling them both. “It will bake faster if you stop watching it so.”

Kíli flashes her a brilliant smile. “Nuh uh!” he protests.

“And you’ve still got to make your icing!” she exclaims. “It won’t be a right proper cake without the icing!”

Kíli gasps in shock at the thought of an improper cake, just as Fíli pouts and protests, “But I don’t know how to make icing!”

She smiles at them as she walks into the kitchen, reaching up to one of the higher shelves and pulling down a few jars. “Well it’s a good thing that I do,” she says. Kíli cheers in delight as he jumps out to join her.

Fíli (predictably) pouts at her. “But  _I_  wanted to make it,” he says pitifully.

“You will,” she soothes him. “I’ll just tell you what to add, and make sure you don’t eat it all,” she says with a fond smile that brightens her eldest son’s face right back up.

They work well together, mixing the sugar, butter, vanilla, and milk and making a sweet smelling icing in no time at all, though, again, there’s more sugar on the boys than in the icing, but they’re wearing matching, happy grins when the pull the finished cake from the oven and set about decorating it. It’s not an overly beautiful cake (truthfully it looks a little more than terrifying), but the boys  _did_  make it themselves.

“Now, a good chef always cleans his kitchen when he’s done,” she says with a meaningful glance around the messy kitchen, smiling lightly at the pouting faces she receives in return. She takes the cake and sets it out of the way on their table. “Your uncle won’t be having any of it, you know.”

 _That_  spurs them into action, and they make quick work of the kitchen before all but sprinting back to their own room to change their clothes. She makes a mental note to use Thorin’s presence as a motivator to get them to do their chores more often.

The door to their small home creaks open just as they’re returning from their bedroom. Ecstatic smiles break out on both their faces and they run toward the door, tacking their uncle in the process.

“Oh, what’s this?” Thorin shouts in mock surprise. “Little goblins in my house!” He lifts Kíli up and swings him around to his back, causing the younger to let out a delighted squeal of laughter, before his fingers spring forward to tickle Fíli’s side, sending the older boy into peals of laughter of his own.

“Happy birthday, Uncle!” Kíli says, wrapping his arms around the older dwarf’s neck.

“Yes, yes,” Fíli agrees once he manages to catch his breath. “Happy birthday! We made you a cake!”

“Oh?” Thorin asks with an amused raised eyebrow. “The pair of you did?”

Dís gives him a warm smile. “Aye, they did. Cleaned up the mess they made, too.”

“What fine nephews I have,” he murmurs fondly, reaching hands out to ruffle their hair.

Fíli beams up at him with pride.

Later, after supper, Thorin settles into his armchair with his pipe and his piece of cake. He grimaces at the taste, but hides it behind a smile for his boys. As soon as they’re not looking, he spits it into his napkin.

Dís has to excuse herself when she’s nearly overtaken by her hysterical laughter.


	23. Mirkwood Spider Attack from Fíli's Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> circuschickadee answered: Mirkwood spider attack from the point of view of Fili or Kili? I may have already sent you this…I can’t remember…Sorry if it’s a repeat!
> 
> ———
> 
> i did write a bit about kíli during the spider attack for someone before. :) but here, have a very short clip of fíli during the spider scene!

_Spiders_. Of all the gods-forsaken creatures in all of Middle Earth, they had to be sodding  _spiders_.

 

He’s not scared of a lot of things, honestly. He’s the elder,  _braver_  brother, and few things really frightened him. Little spiders made him a little squirmy and uncomfortable, sure. Who didn’t feel that way? But it was nothing he couldn’t muster up a little courage for and handle.

Big, gigantic, apparently  _dwarf-eating_  spiders were a completely different story altogether.

He’s right terrified, but he can feel Kíli fighting at his back, and his brother’s bravery spurs him on. He’s still a little woozy from whatever they’d bitten them with, and his arms feel sluggish and weak. He hears Kíli shout something to him, but isn’t able to make sense of the words, and doesn’t have the opportunity to when a rather large spider rushes at him.

He smashes his sword down, killing the beast quickly enough, when he sees two more to his right. They’re taken down by an arrow each, and he starts to look for his brother to thank him before he realizes that the arrows aren’t  _his_. The fletching is wrong. Kíli’s are  _yellow_.

Suddenly, they’re surrounded on all sides by elves. He whirls around, trying to locate his brother but he can’t  _find_  him. There’s a scream off in the distance, one that he recognizes immediately and has his stomach sinking into his boots.

“Kíli!”


	24. Durin Babies get Caught in a Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> marigoldfaucet asked: "Fili and Kili caught in a storm. Bonus points for Uncle Thorin."
> 
> \------
> 
> :) thanks darling! hope you like it.

He should have known better.

The skies on the horizon had been ominous before they’d even left home. He should have kept an eye on them better. He should have had them head back home sooner. No, he should have refused to let them leave the settlement at all.

 

But Kíli’s giddy, excited smile at the prospect of an afternoon romping around the woods had been all the convincing he’d needed. It was all the motivation he ever needed, come to think of it. Kíli’s happiness was always infectious, and being the one to give such joy to his little brother always magnified his own delight tenfold.

Now the clouds are directly overhead, swirling and ominous in the waning light. If they’re quick, they might still make it home before the rain starts. Kíli seems unperturbed by the weather, and he’s not going to make any mention of it, not unless he has to. The longer he can keep him oblivious to the storm brewing above him, the better.

Kíli is prattling on excitedly about the flowers they’d picked for their mother when the first bolt of lightening streaks across the sky, followed by a peal of rumbling thunder that freezes his brother in his tracks. Wide, terrified brown eyes turn up to face him then. Kíli had been terrified of thunderstorms ever since their father had died, as the intense rumblings from the clouds reminded him of the thunderous sound the mine had emitted when it had collapsed and buried their father underneath tons of stone.

“Fee…” he calls out, immediately scrambling for his hand and clasping it tight. He’s already trembling something fierce as his eyes take in the sky, the threat of the storm now apparent. The wind whips up around them with ferocious intensity, and, with a sinking feeling, he realizes they won’t make it home in time.

“It’s okay, Kíli. Look at me?” he calls, squatting just a bit so they are at eye level. “We’re not going to make it home before the rain, okay?”

“No!” Kíli whimpers, tears coming to eyes almost instantly. “No, we have to get home, Fee!”

As if on cue, the rain starts then, pelting them with fat drops of cold, cold water. “Come on, nadadith,” he says, pulling his brother with him as he breaks into a run to find some shelter. They’re close enough to the mountains that they should be able to find a shallow cave, and he wracks his brain trying to remember where Dwalin’s hunting caves are.

The wind whirls violently around them, startling him with its intensity, but still he presses on. Every flash of lightening and rumble of thunder spurs him on faster, until finally,  _finally_  he sees one of the hunting caves ahead of them. They duck into it quickly, both of them soaked to the bone. He quickly inspects his little brother, finding a few scrapes from the brush on his face.

“Come here,” he says, opening the circle of his arms and beckoning him inside, anxious eyes watching the tempest around them. The wind is blowing harder than he’s ever seen, the rain falling in thick sheets that make it nearly impossible to see. Kíli tucks himself into his side, shivering from fear and cold both, and he holds him tightly. “It’s alright, Kee,” he murmurs shakily, sincerely hoping they don’t wind up stuck out here all night. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Another loud crack of thunder causes his little brother to jump, hands scrambling for purchase against his wet tunic as he pulls himself impossibly closer. Kíli lets out a shaky sob, tears coming in earnest from his fear.

“Shh, shh, nadadith,” he soothes gently, though he’d be lying to himself if he said he weren’t afraid as well. “It’s just a storm. It’s alright.”

Now that they’re no longer running, he realizes how cold it’s become, and he shivers despite himself. He raises a hand to card through Kíli’s hair, flinching when he realizes how  _cold_  his little brother feels. They hadn’t brought a tinderbox with them; they’d only been going out for the afternoon…

He curses quietly under his breath, hoping that the storm passes quickly enough so they can get  _home_ and be warm. He was so  _stupid_ ; he should have let them stay out so long. He lets his own tears of frustration fall into Kíli’s hair, lets them mix with the rain so he can pretend he’s not so affected by the storm raging around them.

It feels like they’ve been trapped in the cave for hours when he thinks he hears someone calling his name.

Kíli’s head snaps up as well, and he forces himself to listen closely around the roaring of the wind. He hears it again, more clearly this time. Someone shouting his name.  _Uncle_  shouting his name.

“We’re here!” he calls out desperately, sticking his head as far out of the cave as he dares. “Here! Uncle!”

The shouts of his name get closer and closer, until he’s finally able to make out three broad forms in the distance. Relief washes over him when he’s able to recognize Thorin, followed closely by Mister Dwalin and Mister Bofur, the tree of them looking clearly ecstatic to find them.

“Uncle!” Kíli shouts, launching himself at the older dwarf the second he steps under the canopy of the ledge, and it’s not until Thorin lifts him up and embraces him that he realizes his brother’s lips have gone blue from the cold. Thorin drops to his knees beside him, gathering him into an embrace with his free hand, breathing a deep sigh of relief has he holds his nephews close, pressing kisses to both their brows.


	25. Kíli wants a Pet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> teddyrollaround answered: Kili want to have a pet … a bear baby or so.
> 
> ———
> 
> this is embarrassingly short. i hope you like it, though! thanks for the prompt!

“No,” Thorin says, finality in his tone.

Kíli dons his signature puppy-eyes and sticks out his lower lip in a truly pitiful looking pout. “But _Uncle_!” he whines. “It’s all  _alone_!”

He’s referring to the baby bear they encountered while exploring through the woods earlier, looking for some plants and herbs that Dís had requested.

“I’m sure it’s mum was just around the corner,” he placates. “We’ve no room in our home for a pet anyhow.”

“But it’ll  _die_  out there, all alone!” Kíli whines, voice going up an octave in complaint. A few of the townspeople raise their eyebrows at him, curious about the young dwarfling, who is seemingly on the verge of a tantrum.

“I said  _no_ , Kíli,” Thorin snaps, feeling just a little bit guilty for losing his temper on the boy. He truly is too young too understand, but his incessant whining was growing tedious. “Your home is no place for a bear.”

Kíli nods but still sulks, following diligently behind his uncle. There’s a few moments of blessed silence when the lad grabs on to the back of his tunic to keep up with him in the crowd. They’re almost all the way home when he hears it.

A soft, pitiful little whine.

“Please, Uncle?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, reminding himself that patience is a virtue.


	26. Durin Babies have a Spat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dianalunae answered: Durin bbs have a fight? Maybe Kili does something dangerous and Fili yells at him and then sulking before they have to make up?
> 
> ———
> 
> :3 thanks my love. i hope you like this!

“Are you mad?!” Fíli shouts, face red and twisted with anger, causing the mirthful smile to fall from Kíli’s lips. “Have you completely  _lost_  your bloody mind? What if you had fallen?”

 

Just seconds before, Kíli had been perched high up in a tree, bow drawn and aiming at a rather large buck below. And he  _had_  gotten the buck. With one clean shot. He’d been completely elated at the kill, had practically  _jumped_  down the tree in his excitement, only to be met with Fíli’s angry face.

“What?” he asks, rather dumbly. He didn’t do anything he hadn’t done a dozen times before.

“What?!” Fíli parrots, eyes going narrow as he shoves at his shoulder roughy. “Climbing sixty feet up a tree and  _letting go_  of it to shoot your bow? Balancing on a tiny little limb  _sixty feet in the air_?”

“It wasn’t tiny,” he protests weakly, realizing the validity of his brother’s complaint. He receives a stern glare in return. “It was perfectly safe! I’ve done it loads of times before!”

 _That_  proves the be the wrong thing to say, as his brother’s face gets impossibly redder and he shoves him hard in the shoulders once more, with enough force to send him stumbling backward.

“Do me a favor then,” he all but snarls, “and  _don’t_  act like a complete idiot when I’m around to watch you kill yourself.” He stomps off into the woods, shoulders hunched in anger.

He doesn’t go too far, not far enough that Kíli can’t see him, before he yanks his twin swords free of their scabbard and starts hacking away at a poor, innocent tree in frustration.

He chews on his bottom lip in frustration. He hadn’t thought Fíli would be so  _cross_  with him. He really had pulled that same shot off a number of times before, and he always made sure he was on a sturdy branch with his balanced centered before he even tried. It wasn’t like he  _wanted_  to plummet to his death through the tree limbs. Couldn’t Fíli see that?

With a sigh, he turns back to the felled buck, digging through his pack for his supplies as he begins to clean the animal. He’d really thought his brother would have been proud of him for pulling off such a shot, but he’d only made him angry. Again.

He blinks back unbidden tears of frustration. He didn’t mean to be a burden, he didn’t  _mean_  to worry Fíli so, but it seemed like that was all he did anymore. Uncle had warned him that he was far too reckless for his liking, but Kíli hadn’t really taken it to heart, not until now. He  _liked_  climbing trees and exploring and hiking, but if it made Fíli angry with him, then…well, he’d have to do it less often, or not at all.

He works quickly and efficiently, all of his efforts focused on cleaning the buck and not at all dwelling on his brother’s mood. The sun is dipping low on the horizon when he finishes up, and Fíli plops down next to him, wrapping both arms tightly around him.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I worry about you too much,” he admits before pressing a kiss to his curls.

“You’re right though,” he whispers. “I  _am_  too reckless. I don’t mean to be. I just don’t always think things through before I do them.”

Fíli breathes out a heavy sigh. “You  _have_  to, Kee. You have to look out for yourself.”

He’s reluctant to wrap his arms around his brother in return, as they’re still covered in blood from his kill. Eventually, the desire to comfort his brother wins out over the cleanliness of their tunics, and he hugs him back tightly. “M’sorry, Fee. I…I really did make sure I wouldn’t fall,” he utters lamely, feeling guilty for making his brother worry so much.

“I’d be completely lost without you, nadadith,” Fíli says quietly. “Please be careful, okay? For me?”

Kíli can only nod in reply. He’s never been able to refuse his brother anything.


	27. lazy saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a birthday present for laura, who has been a fabulous and incredibly caring friend to me in the very short time that we've known one another. love you, bb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: durincest (not related) modern!au

He wakes slowly, leisurely, to the feeling of long fingers carding through his hair. He knows Kíli can tell that he’s awake; his fingers shift from idly brushing to deliberately scratching, and he can hear the sound of a book being set down on their nightstand. Smiling lazily, he stretches out like a cat, adjusting himself so that he’s curled up against the brunet’s side, smiling wider as long, lanky arms wrap around him.

“G’morning, sleepy-head,” Kíli murmurs, voice thick with sleep, even though he’s probably been up for a while. While Fíli himself was a night owl, prone to staying up until all hours working or reading or playing video games and sleeping late into the day, Kíli woke with the sun every morning. It was, however, particularly endearing how his younger boyfriend tended to laze around in bed with him on the weekends, reading or watching television on mute.

“Mmm,” he manages in reply, squeezing his arms tighter around Kíli, fully intending to doze off again as he settles in against his love. “Still sleepy,” he slurs, smiling once more when he feels Kíli’s hand smoothing patterns against his back. He is traversing the plains between sleep and wakefulness when his stomach makes a wholly undignified growl, one that pulls a hearty laugh from his boyfriend.

“S’not funny,” he protests with a pout, but his frown only lasts a second before he dissolves into his own bought of laughter.

“Maybe we should go to Bilbo’s for breakfast?” Kíli offers, scooting down and turning so the pair is facing one another.

Fíli brushes their noses together, reaching up to brush some of the chocolate strands from the other’s face, smiling softly at the warmth and love he sees shining in his eyes. “Mmm,” he hums again, nuzzling in to press a kiss against the brunet’s lips. “That sounds nice,” he admits, but makes no move to disentangle their limbs and instead pulls him closer for another, deeper kiss.

He has always marveled at how responsive Kíli is, how the young man always curls up against him, how his hands always grip at his shirt, at the breathy, whisper-soft moans that slip out when he deepens the kiss.

“This seems nicer,” Kíli whispers when they part, his cheeks flushed pink, small, contended smile tugging at his lips.

Fíli grins. “Doesn’t it?” but his stomach growls again and sends the pair into another giggle fit.

“You stay here,” Kíli says once he calms his laughter, leaning in to steal a kiss and quiet Fíli’s lingering chuckles as well. “I’ll run and get take-away from Bilbo’s, and then we can continue this, yea?”

“Breakfast in bed?” he asks, grinning when the brunet nods in agreement. Fíli kisses him again, slow and languid as he cherishes the feel of Kíli’s body against his. “You’re a saint,” he murmurs, pressing their foreheads together tenderly.

“Love you,” Kíli murmurs, before reluctantly pulling himself from bed to retrieve their breakfast.


End file.
